


Blood of the Marauders

by Author_Person



Series: A Series of Unfortunate Demises [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bestiality, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Cock Vore, Dark Harry Potter, Dismemberment, M/M, Oral Sex, Penectomy, Rape, Torture, Underage Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_Person/pseuds/Author_Person
Summary: Harry finds out who he can really trust.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (past), Kreacher/Harry Potter
Series: A Series of Unfortunate Demises [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048666
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer  
> Don’t own the characters, not making money. 
> 
> Content Warning  
> Contains: Rape, blood and gore, violence, torture, dismemberment, cannibalism, bestiality, underage sex, and naughty language.

Harry wakes, his head feeling like it’s full of cotton. He closes his eyes, which feel too dry for his having slept all night, and tries to remember the night before. What was he doing that he’s this tired first thing in the morning? He remembers the order meeting, which was boring because they refused to talk about anything important while he was there, he doesn’t understand why Sirius demanded he be there for it if it was going to be pointless. He remembers his tea tasting a bit odd and him wondering if Kreacher had decided to poison them all, but after that...everything is fuzzy. His memories are jumbled and vague but he distinctly remembers...fuck. His eyes jerk open and he finds himself almost panting in his panic. He realizes just in time that he doesn’t want to wake anyone else. He turns his head very slowly to the side and finds himself staring, horrified and shaking with rage, at the sight of his godfather and Lupin. He closes his eyes and tries to force the anger down a little. He can’t lose control. He wasn’t in control of his body last night because of these fuckers and now that he’s back in control of himself again he isn’t going to let it go. Ever again.

He climbs carefully out of bed, creeps into the hall, and summons Kreacher. He could use an ally right now and he knows of no one else he can trust to be on his side in this situation. It’s pretty fucking sad that he doesn’t trust any of his friends. Even the twins would probably encourage him not to do what he’s about to. They would do it out of concern for him, but still. He needs someone who won’t hold him back.

Kreacher pops into existence and he crouches down to his level and whispers harshly before the man can start on his diatribe.

“I need a knife and I need you to ensure no sound leaves this room for...I’m not sure how long really. I want to take my time with this, but long enough for me to slaughter your disgusting master. I also need you to act as lookout and distraction in case anyone comes looking for me. Will you help me?”

Kreacher nods silently, looking very pleased indeed. Then snaps his fingers and hands him a dagger.

“Little Master be needing _this_.”

He weighs it in his hand for a moment. It’s just slightly too large for him, he sighs at how small he still is, but there’s something about it...

“What makes this special? Why does it feel like...home?”

There’s no other way to describe it. It feels right in his hand in spite of the size being off, even more so than his _wand_ does. Kreacher’s eyes gleam.

“It’s the blade of the master of the house. It can only be turned against a Black by a Black, Little Master.”

He blinks in confusion.

“Are you saying I’m now the master of the house?”

“Little Master is carrying the new heir. Yes.”

Oh fuck. He braces himself against the wall with his free hand. No. He won’t allow. No.

“Kreacher I...can it be removed?”

Kreacher nods sharply. But holds up a single finger and then grimaces and looks apologetic.

“What? What was that about?”

“Kreacher is sorry Little Master, Kreacher almost told Little Master what to do.”

“Hey, it’s fine. You know more than I do about most things, Kreacher. Please give me your advice.”

“Little Master be needing to keep it for now. Or Little Master be losing his place.”

He doesn’t understand for a moment but then he remembers the shitty shows that Petunia would watch about the nobility.

“So it’s like with the royals or whatever. I’m the king and he’s the regent and I can’t use the dagger to kill him if I get rid of this _thing_ first. Did I get that right?”

Kreacher nods, still looking like he’s waiting to be punished for speaking out of turn.

“Well I am very grateful that you warned me Kreacher. You have been so helpful already. You can keep the noise inside this room?”

“Kreacher can do everything Little Master asked.”

“Good. _Thank you_.”

He nods to Kreacher, then rises, and turns to go back into the bedroom. Where he finds Lupin just starting to stir. He remembers that the man wasn’t the instigator, that he was reluctant. He also remembers that he did join in after Sirius wheedled him a bit. But mostly he remembers how tender they were with one another. He knows making Sirius watch his lover suffer will be the worst punishment he can inflict. Even more than torturing Sirius himself.

He climbs on the bed and straddles Lupin’s waist. He presses the blade against the man’s throat, leans forward, and whispers to the half awake man.

“You forgot to obliviate me.”

Lupin’s eyes snap open and he tries to throw him off but Harry digs the blade in, just barely and the man goes still. He whispers again.

“You will use your magic to tie your lover to the bedposts or you will watch him die. Your choice.”

The man’s eyes fill with fury and despair in equal measures and Harry finds himself becoming a little aroused at the sight. Which just serves to remind him of the night before and how much his body _liked_ some of the things they did. He presses the knife deeper in response, blood begins rolling down the man’s throat and soaking into the bedsheets. Lupin gulps and whispers back, so quietly he almost misses it.

“If I do you won’t..?”

“Kill him, or kill you? Whose life are you pleading for?”

“His.”

He hums noncommittally. Says.

“I did say it was that or watch him die. Now are you going to choose? Or do I need to assume the answer is no?”

The man very slowly moves his hand and conjures ropes wandlessly, tying Sirius to the bed. Sirius wakes at once and begins struggling. Harry can feel the moment the man tries to reach for his magic to free himself. He grabs Lupin’s head and holds it still, places the tip of the dagger just below his eye, making Lupin cry out. Sirius finally notices what’s happening. He gasps out.

“Harry, please, don’t do this.”

He smirks at his godfather and begins gently pressing the blade in. He doesn’t want to go too far and accidentally kill his victim. Sirius begins pleading for him to stop, pulling on his magic again, but apparently Kreacher went even farther than he asked because the man can’t use his magic.

Lupin moans in pain and fights his instinct to fight back, still hoping that if he acts as a sacrifice he can save his lover. It’s touching and it makes him sick. How dare the man be so concerned about his lover while letting _him_ be mistreated. He carves out his eye and holds it out to Sirius to admire. The man refuses to look at it. Staring in horror at his lover, endless pleas falling from his lips. He decides the man needs something else to occupy them. He places Lupin’s eye at Sirius’ lips. Tells him.

“Eat it, or I’ll take the other.”

Sirius glares at him, panting with fury, but then closes his eyes and opens his mouth. He watches gleefully as the man chews his lover’s eye, then swallows. He laughs and begins slicing into Lupin’s skin. At first simply drawing patterns into the surface of his skin, but then he begins flaying him. He carves at his arms and chest, then moves lower to his legs. Just taking strips of skin here and there. He knows he can’t take too much or the man will die, and he doesn’t want that, yet. He ignores Lupin’s struggling. The man doesn’t want to struggle, still hopes to save Sirius, but no one can force themself to stay still while being flayed. He doesn’t hold it against him.

He finishes turning the man into an abstract art piece, random slashes crisscrossing his body. He sits back on his heels to admire his work. There’s blood and bits of skin everywhere on the bed. It’s beautiful. He decides he needs more though. Something which suits the crime. He reaches out and strokes the man’s cock teasingly, Lupin gulps, staring in horrified fascination as he brings the dagger closer. He grips the man’s cock tightly and plunges the blade through it, drinking in the sound of his screams. Fuck. He’s so glad he’s able to do this. He drags the blade slowly out of the side of the man’s cock and then shoves it through the base of it, slicing it off at the root. He carves off his bollocks as well while he’s at it. Admiring the amount of blood pouring out of the wound where the man’s cock used to be. Then he turns to his godfather and gives him a vicious smile, drinking in the horror in the bastard’s eyes.

“Say goodbye.”

The man screams as he slices Lupin’s neck open, thrashing in his bonds and frantically pulling on his magic again. Only to find himself still unable to access it.

He watches raptly as Lupin chokes on his own blood. Leans forward and whispers to the dying man.

“You haven’t managed to save him.”

The man is too busy dying to take in his words but oh well. He punished the man enough to satisfy himself anyway.

He turns to the real arsehole and drinks in the man’s sobs. He looks devastated. It’s glorious. He climbs off Lupin’s calves now that the man is dead, and sits himself down on Sirius’ thighs.

The man doesn’t even seem to notice. Too lost in his grief. He’s tempted not to kill him at all, just leave him to suffer without the man he apparently loved. But killing him would be more fun. He’ll just have to step up his game to pull the man out of it. Hm...

He smirks and calls Kreacher. Who looks almost feral with happiness.

“I’m not sure how this works, my being your new master. Can you hurt him if I order you to? Or would you feel the need to punish yourself after?”

“Kreacher can hurt him, if you order it.”

He notices the omission and feels the need to clarify.

“You won’t want to, or need to, punish yourself after?”

Kreacher shakes his head looking rather hopeful.

“Then I order you to hurt him. You may use whatever method you want. But try not to kill him yet. He needs to suffer more first.”

Kreacher gives him a look and he moves out of the way. He watches somewhat confused as Kreacher vanishes the man’s bonds and then uses magic to move him into the middle of the room, on his hands and knees. He blinks. The man can’t be planning to...Kreacher snaps his fingers and Buckbeak is suddenly in the room with them. Harry’s mouth goes dry and he smiles so wide it hurts. Fuck. He would never have thought to...just fuck this is going to be amazing.

“You are brilliant Kreacher.”

Kreacher gives him a small smile. Then growls as he uses magic to nudge the hippogriff into position.

“It’s the only fitting punishment for a filthy rapist and blood traitor.”

He ignores the man’s bigotry for now. He’ll try to reason with him later. For now he just sits back and watches the show. Sirius has lost his apathy now and is panicking. Trying vainly to flee, the elf’s magic keeping him in place. Harry licks his lip as Buckbeak shoves his cock home, Kreacher having forced the beast to harden. Sirius screams from the first moment, and continues screaming the entire time. Buckbeak fucks into his unprepared arse forcefully, tearing the bastard’s arse wide open. Harry finds himself hardening fully at the sight and the sound of the bastard’s agony. He’s tempted to stroke himself while he watches but he has a better idea in mind. He waits until the hippogriff has finished, Sirius screaming even louder as he’s filled, the semen no doubt painful in his wounded arse.

He stands up and walks over to stand in front of the bastard, stroking his hard cock teasingly as Buckbeak backs away. He grabs a fistful of the arsehole’s hair and forces his cock down his throat, cutting off the man’s whimpers. He savors the tight heat wrapped around his cock, the way the man swallows convulsively is divine. Fuck, he’s going to need to do this again sometime. Just maybe without the violently murdering someone part. Unless he finds someone deserving. He begins thrusting slowly into the man’s throat, while telling Kreacher.

“I would love for you to hurt him more.”

Kreacher smirks and snaps his fingers, summoning a whip. He begins lashing the man’s back, pulling more screams from the bastard. The vibrations feel so good on his cock he finds himself getting close already. He decides he doesn’t want to end things this quickly and asks Kreacher.

“Can you remove his vocal cords?”

Kreacher laughs and does just that before resuming whipping the man. He fucks into the man’s throat faster now that he no longer has to worry about finishing too soon. He fucks his throat for a long time while Kreacher whips his back until his skin is being stripped away. He feels himself getting close again and shoves his cock as deep as he can, cutting off the man’s airway. He nods at Kreacher to stop and the man does at once, coming to stand beside him and watch his former master die. They both watch eagerly, the man’s frantic attempts to breathe pushing him over the edge. He gasps out a climax just before Sirius’ eyes go dim. He ruts into the corpse’s throat as he finishes releasing. Then he pulls out and drives the dagger into his throat just to be sure the man is dead. He watches the blood flow sluggishly from the wound with satisfaction, then he turns to Kreacher.

“If you could?”

He gestures at his stomach and Kreacher nods, then snaps his fingers. He doesn’t feel anything but he trusts the man. He’s not sure he trusts anyone else more at the moment.

He looks around at the carnage and smiles. This is his new favorite memory. He could cast the brightest patronus in the goddamn world from this. If only he was of age. Stupid fucking ministry. Well it’ll still be his favorite memory two weeks from now when he’s back at Hogwarts. He’ll test it out then. For now...

“I don’t suppose you can simply vanish this mess?”

Kreacher snorts, snaps his fingers, and the room is instantly clean. Except for the bloody whip still lying where Kreacher left it, and two small logs. He blinks down at the items left behind, then turns to Kreacher with a questioning look.

“They’ll burn hotter than a normal log but it’s the easiest way to dispose of them. Too big to vanish.”

“And the whip?”

Kreacher grimaces.

“Black family heirloom.”

“That’s nasty. I get you want to keep these things but...sometimes you have to let go of things like that. I’m guessing it wasn’t generally used on the deserving.”

Kreacher shakes his head. He kneels down in front of him.

“I won’t order you to get rid of it. I know what it’s like to have nothing for yourself. But I want you to consider burning it as well. The Black family legacy needs to change, look at where the blood purity nonsense has gotten us. There are fewer magicals every year, and they’re weaker too. Without change we stagnate, and then we die out.”

Kreacher surprises him by nodding slowly. Then he snaps his fingers and the three items float into the fire which he sets burning with another quick snap. Harry smiles brightly at him.

They watch the fire for a long moment and then he sighs and straightens up.

“It’s getting late. We should head down to breakfast before everyone else gets up. Help me cook? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not about to order you around, Kreacher. Hope that doesn’t bother you.”

Kreacher smiles and snaps his fingers, summoning a change of clothes for him. He glances at his clothes from the night before and Kreacher sends them into the flames as well. He nods gratefully while starting to dress.

They head down to breakfast together. Luckily getting there before Mrs. Weasley. He begins making breakfast for them at once. He isn’t about to eat anything made by anyone else ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

He gets up to wash their dishes after they eat, Kreacher grumbling about being able to do it quicker with magic. He can’t help but tease the man.

“Volunteering to help? What _will_ people think?”

Kreacher gives him an annoyed look, but his face quickly goes blank when Dumbledore walks in. Followed by Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

Harry says a quick good morning and is just about to leave when he feels a spell hit him from behind. He whirls around wand drawn and stares at Dumbledore who looks stunned. He’s too busy staring the man down to glance down at whatever is glowing in the air between them, he doesn’t know what that spell was but he doesn’t trust Dumbledore enough to glance away even for a second. He gets an explanation soon enough. Hermione crying out.

“Negative?! How can he be negative?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off Dumbledore while he asks Kreacher.

“What was that spell?”

But it’s Ginny who answers.

“A pregnancy test of course. How can you _not_ be pregnant after all that fucking?!”

He slips his free hand into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around the handle of the dagger. He doesn’t draw it, yet, but he may soon if he thinks it’s necessary. But while the other two disappearing can be written off as them simply fleeing the country, there’s no way he can kill these four without facing the risk of Azkaban. Assuming he could even manage to kill Dumbledore.

He stares into Dumbledore’s eyes, a bit shocked the man is actually making eye contact, and finds him looking confused, and angry. He wonders why the man wanted him pregnant, wonders why his so called _friends_ would want this as well. Thinks he must have convinced everyone it was for the greater good. He grits his teeth and answers, seemingly calmly.

“It wasn’t fucking. It was rape. I confronted them about it this morning, and the cowards fled before they could be brought up on charges. Apparently I’m immune to obliviation.”

He doubts the man will buy it, but he would rather try to convince him not to try that on him than not even bother trying. He isn’t going to let anyone fuck with his memories if he can help it.

Dumbledore doesn’t even move his wand, simply snaps out the word.

“Obliviate.”

He has no chance to counter or dodge.

~~~~~~

He stalks into the decrepit townhouse annoyed at being ordered to give the boy occlumency lessons. And furious that he once again has to deal with the mutt. The boy’s dogfather is going to be obnoxious over this, not that he isn’t obnoxious as it is.

He’s just about to enter the kitchen where the boy is standing with his friends, although he’s staring past them at someone he can’t see. He hears the Weasley girl exclaim.

“A pregnancy test of course. How can you _not_ be pregnant after all that fucking?!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. He wishes sometimes he could be obliviated. He did not need to know the boy was fucking the Weasley boy. Disgusting. He would have thought the boy could do better than _that_. He’s about to step inside and interrupt whatever little drama is playing out. Honestly why would they be annoyed the boy is not pregnant? He personally is quite happy to hear that and now that he knows the boy is sexually active, he’s tempted to ensure he remains that way. The boy is difficult enough to keep alive without his being gravid. But then he hears something that makes him go still.

“It wasn’t fucking. It was rape. I confronted them about it this morning, and the cowards fled before they could be brought up on charges. Apparently I’m immune to obliviation.”

He pulls his wand silently and slowly as he listens. He has a feeling he knows precisely who _they_ are and he’s going to track them down and force them to eat their own genitals. In the meantime he’s going to curse the boy’s so called friends with something debilitating. And whoever else is involved as well. He wonders why the boy felt the need to bullshit about being immune to a spell that no one is immune to.

He disillusions himself and steps forward, only to immediately flatten himself against the wall to the side of the doorway. _No_. With Albus involved he can’t...

He turns over every possible way of taking the man down, it isn’t like he’s never considered it before with the leash he has around his neck but none of the possibilities are something that will help him in this moment. The man is too strong to duel and too well protected for him to have a chance at getting to him with a lucky shot. He glares daggers at the wall in front of him, but there’s nothing he can do at this moment. He’ll have to wait and enact one of his plans later. He hears the man speak the dreaded word.

“Obliviate.”

He’s unsurprised Albus called the boy’s bluff, the man is no fool, he knows well this would be the one thing the public would never forgive.

He hates the idea, but perhaps this is for the best. The boy will be happier without that memory and it will give him the time to act. He can retrieve it for him later. But it is a grotesque thing to have your memories stolen from you. He’s glad he doesn’t have to worry about such a thing.

He takes a slow breath, puts his wand away, and stalks into the kitchen.

~~~~~~

He watches Dumbledore put away his wand. He finds himself blinking in confusion. He doesn’t understand. Is he actually immune to being obliviated? He shoots a glance toward Kreacher who flicks his eyes down to his hand, still wrapped around the dagger. Oh. That must be why Kreacher wanted him to have it. He nods almost imperceptibly. Then focuses back on Dumbledore but is distracted almost at once by Snape storming into the room. The man looks annoyed as always and barks out.

“Potter. I need to speak to you alone. Come.”

He sighs at being ordered around like a dog, and flashes an inquiring look at Dumbledore, who gives him a reassuring smile.

“Severus will be giving you private lessons for a while, my boy. He needs to speak to you about them.”

He nods and follows the man to the drawing room. The moment they’re alone Snape starts in on what the lessons will entail. They sound awful and he really doesn’t want the man inside his head, not with the memories currently stored away inside it. He wonders if he dares convince the man he doesn’t need the lessons. But that might tip off Dumbledore to the fact things aren’t the way he wants them to be. He lets go of the dagger and allows the man to barge into his head, hoping that he isn’t making a terrible mistake.

~~~~~~

He slips into the boy’s mind intending only to glance through a few memories, give the boy a feel for what he needs to guard against, but the first thing he sees is carnage. The boy sitting on a bed carving into the wolf. Blood and skin surrounding him. The boy looks beautiful beyond description, his body covered in blood, his eyes filled with vicious satisfaction as he carves off the wolf’s cock. He feels himself getting hard at the sight and notices the boy isn’t exactly unaffected in the memory. He drags his eyes forcefully away from the boy’s nakedness, he shouldn’t be ogling him, and onto the boy’s dogfather. He’s unharmed and he doesn’t understand that until the memory plays out further. Fuck. He’s going to ask the boy for a copy of this and he’s going to watch it for hours. He can’t believe how vicious the boy is. He has to have him. He watches the mutt being raped by a hippogriff, being whipped, being choked to death on the boy’s cock and he _wants_.

He pulls as gently as possible out of the boy’s mind.

“How?”

The boy looks confused and he clarifies.

“How did you manage to prevent your obliviation?”

The boy pulls out a dagger and he can’t help but worry the boy has stumbled across something dangerous.

“Kreacher gave it to me, apparently it can only be used by a Black. It stopped him from obliviating me because I was touching it. I had a feeling it would stop you from getting in my head so I let go. Didn’t want you reporting to Dumbledore that I didn’t need the lessons after all. Who knows what he would’ve done next. Are you going to keep this quiet?”

He shakes his head at the ridiculous boy, but not in a denial.

“It wasn’t because you stopped touching it, it was because you wanted me to access your mind. That blade will protect you so long as it is on your person. It was thought to be lost, but no doubt the Blacks simply found it advantageous for the public to believe that. Keep it on you always now that Albus has proved himself to be an enemy. I won’t be telling anyone any of this, I swear it on my magic.”

The boy gasps as his magic surrounds them both for a moment. Then gapes at him.

“I’m not doing it for this reason, but if you don’t mind I would love a copy of that memory. Only if you truly don’t mind.”

The boy snorts a laugh.

“I should’ve known you would enjoy watching that considering how much you hated those two. I don’t know how to give you a copy of it though, so you’re going to have to explain that.”

He does so and is soon holding a vial of the boy’s memory. Which just might be his most prized possession.

He gives the boy a very quick rundown of how to handle himself around Dumbledore as of now.

“Don’t make eye contact, but try not to make it noticeable that you’re avoiding doing so. Look at the bridge of his nose if you can’t avoid looking in his direction entirely. He is a powerful legilimens which is to say that he can tell whenever anyone lies to him, whether you are making eye contact or no. So avoid lying unless you want him to know the truth of your statement. I know subterfuge doesn’t come naturally to a Gryffindor, you should probably practice with your former friends, answer only in half truths rather than telling either the truth or a lie. I need to leave before the man gets suspicious about how long we have been cloistered in here together, but before I leave...”

He conjures a strip of leather, turns it into a portkey and hands it to the boy.

“In case he decides to try again, or you find yourself in danger for any reason. Say _her_ name and it will bring you to me wherever I am.”

“Her?”

“Your mother.”

The boy blinks up at him with those same green eyes and nods slowly. He closes his eyes against the old guilt and leaves.

~~~~~~

He watches Snape stalk out wondering what _that_ was about. He decides not to worry about it for now, ties the leather band around his ankle where no one will notice it, and heads up to the room he shares with Ron. He reminds himself on the way that he really shouldn’t murder him. It isn’t worth the risk, but also...he wants to make him suffer for more than a few hours. Same with the other three. He’s going to have to be a bit more creative when it comes to their punishments. He wishes he could start now, but best to plan it out properly anyway.

When he gets up to their shared room he finds it empty, Ron probably still eating breakfast. He stares around at the room and wishes he could pack up his things and spend the rest of the break away from the arsehole. So many empty bedrooms and yet they have to share, that has to have been planned for some reason. He wonders if Mrs. Weasley is in on it. Wonders about her husband. He’s always liked the man, he hopes he won’t have to slaughter him next. He shakes off the thought for now and calls for Kreacher.

“I don’t know what exactly is possible. But I want to punish them and I don’t want to wait till I’m back at Hogwarts to start. Is there a way for you to...”

He thinks rapidly of what they each enjoy the most. Hermione, knowledge obviously, Ron most people would think it was food, but after sharing a dorm with him he can safely say it’s wanking, and Ginny...hm probably her slim figure if the rumors he’s heard about her are even half-true.

“Can you stop Hermione from learning new things? Make Ginny gain weight? And for Ron...”

He could ask to have him never get hard again, or maybe have him never stop being hard, or perhaps he could have him only able to get off when picturing someone embarrassing. He runs rapidly through all the possibilities. He huffs a laugh. Perfect.

“Make it so he can’t get off unless he’s thinking of McGonagall.”

It’ll embarrass the fuck out of him and will probably lead to him drooling over her which will embarrass her as well, which she deserves for ignoring him in first year if nothing else.

Kreacher nods sharply and he smiles so wide it hurts. A thought pops into his head and he almost brushes it off, but...why not? He gives the man a considering look.

“You know you deserve a reward for your help. Would you like it if I sucked your cock? It’s important that you answer truthfully. In fact in this instance I order you to be honest, because I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Kreacher simply stares at him for a long moment before nodding. He starts to kneel but Kreacher stops him.

“Kreacher needs to know the rules.”

He stares for a moment himself and then nods once he realizes why Kreacher is concerned.

“We don’t have time right now, but later we’ll go over all the possibilities, I’ll let you know which things are off limits and you’ll do the same. But for now...fuck my face if you want, feel free to shove your cock down my throat, and cum inside when you finish if you like. Alright?”

“Can Kreacher tug on your hair if he wants?”

He nods and Kreacher smiles. He kneels and Kreacher pulls out his cock. It’s already half hard and it’s larger than he thought it would be. He can’t wait to be fucked by it, hopefully tonight once everyone is asleep, for now he opens his mouth and sucks it down. Kreacher grips his hair tightly and begins dragging him onto and off his cock like he’s nothing but a fucktoy. He loves it. He stares into Kreacher’s eyes, who is giving him an intense look and smirks whenever he gags. He sucks him as best he can, but he has no idea what he’s doing. Kreacher doesn’t seem to mind and he wonders if it’s because it’s his master on his knees with his mouth wrapped around his cock, or if it’s simply been that long. Either way it doesn’t take long before Kreacher is filling his throat with his load, which is surprisingly large, he has a feeling if the man had filled his mouth instead he wouldn’t have been able to swallow it all. He’s disappointed he doesn’t get to taste it until Kreacher pulls out and finishes releasing into his mouth. He savors the taste for a long moment, and then Kreacher nods toward the door and pops away. He just has time to sit on his bed and pretend to be sulking about his new occlumency lessons when his so called friends show up.


End file.
